


Summer in Qarinus

by Brosephine (SaturnOolaa)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Extremely Slow Burn, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-21 12:11:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15557445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnOolaa/pseuds/Brosephine
Summary: "So you, a Tevene Magister, are going to hire a Qunari bodyguard to go into seclusion with your heir for the next three months. Alone. You have to admit that's hard to believe."





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull, head of a private security firm and secret Qunari agent, finishes one contract and begins another.

"There's one more thing you should know," said the Iron Bull. "I did a final perimeter check of the Chancery, and I’d recommend getting some gate spikes installed. There's a solid padlock on the gates, but they're pretty low compared to the fence - the spikes won't stop a mage, but they'll cause trouble for anybody else looking to break in, and a railing company could have them done for you in a few days.”

Ambassador Montilyet nodded. "An excellent suggestion - I'll have my secretary make inquiries. Is there anything else?"

"No, I think that does it." He’d gone to the Chancery this morning to wrap things up, only to find she’d already left. He could have left a message with the secretary, but he always tried to conclude business in person: it left a better impression with the client. He’d made his way through the crowded city centre of Minrathous to the Curia, where he'd caught up with her on her way through the cavernous hallway that led to the Magisterium, and given her a brief final report. "Pleasure doing business with you." He extended his hand.

The Ambassador did the same, and gave him a firm handshake, unfazed by the fact that her hand was roughly half the size of his. "And you as well. I wish you a safe return to Val Royeaux." She smiled graciously. "My government greatly appreciates your assistance, as well as your willingness to extend your contract. As do I myself."

"Don't mention it." He grinned. "Unless the Chargers ever need to use you as a reference, of course. In that case, feel free to mention it a couple of times."

"If the Foreign Ministry is ever asked to verify that you were contracted with us,” she replied, with a hint of genuine laughter behind her eyes, “I will do my best to present a full picture of your work."

Bull couldn't help laughing at that. "Circumspect as always, Ambassador. I'll leave you to get to your appointment."

"Thank you, The Iron Bull." With a final nod, the Ambassador turned and walked towards the towering double doors of the Magisterium. As usual, he didn't even know who she was meeting, let alone what it was about. Josephine Montilyet was a consummate professional who shared information with anyone outside of her Embassy on a strictly need-to-know basis. Great for Antiva, not so great for him.

Still, she was an impressive woman, and it had been a pleasure working with her. He gave her a final salute as she walked away. 

His security company, the Bull's Chargers, were based out of Orlais, but they had built up a good enough reputation over the last ten years that they occasionally received contracts from other nations. A few months ago they had been contracted to provide extra security for the new Antivan ambassador to Tevinter on her way to Minrathous. The journey by train had been uneventful, but soon after they reached their destination, things got ugly: the chief of security for the Embassy was killed during an attempt on Ambassador Montilyet’s life, and Bull and the Chargers had been obliged to stayed on for an extra two weeks, until a new security officer could be assigned and make it safely to Minrathous.

Those two weeks had been especially difficult without Krem. He was second in command of the Chargers and had been born and raised in Tevinter. Of course, he was also a deserter from the Imperial army, and could be arrested on sight upon entering the country, so he'd been stuck manning the office in Val Royeaux, leaving Bull with nothing but occasional advice over the phone. Still, despite missing his best man, things had gone surprisingly well. The ambassador was alive and unharmed, and Skinner had even managed to track down her would-be assassin, who had been hired by a family with a centuries-long grudge against the Montilyets. 

From the perspective of The Iron Bull, former Qunari soldier and head of the Bull's Chargers, it had been a successful assignment. 

From the perspective of Hissrad, an undercover agent for the Ben-Hassrath, the last month had been sparse. There was a reason all the spies in Tevinter were Viddathari: Vints were suspicious of anyone with a set of horns, even if they were supposed to be a boozing, oversexed Tal-Vashoth who'd abandoned the Qun years ago. He'd been able to send in some potentially interesting Antivan political gossip, but the whole Antivan Embassy seemed to follow Ambassador Montilyet's close-lipped example, and once they'd made it to the Minrathous all eyes were on him wherever he went. His last few reports had been all but pointless. Not that his handlers expected much from him at this point, but it was a shame that with so much time in Tevinter, he hadn’t been able to provide a single thing of real importance.

There was no point in regretting that now. For better or worse, the job was done, and he couldn't wait to get out of this bloody building. Or out of Tevinter, for that matter. He was meeting the rest of the Chargers at noon in a cheap cafe opposite the train station. He'd already booked tickets on the afternoon express to Nevarra City, where they'd stay overnight in a cheap hotel, then take the earliest train to Val Royeaux tomorrow. 

He should have been at the street exit already. Maybe he’d taken a wrong turn. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The whole building represented what Bull privately thought of as the worst of traditional Tevinter architecture: it was about a thousand years old, made entirely of black jet, and built like a fucking maze. Dark, too. He'd had a hell of a time finding the Ambassador, and now he wasn’t sure he could retrace his steps.

It took ten extra minutes and asking for help from a human passerby who looked at him like a talking animal, but finally he found his way back. He was just within sight of the front doors when a beleaguered-looking man came running up after him. "Excuse me! Sir! Sir!"

Bull paused to let him catch up.

"Pardon me," and the man took a moment to catch his breath, "Are you... the Iron Bull?"

"Sure am.” 

"Mr. Bull! I'm here on behalf of Magister Halward Pavus. He wishes to speak to you at your earliest convenience?"

"I can go now." It was probably a bad idea to refuse a meeting with a Magister. With any luck, he'd still make it to the cafe in time to get lunch before they left, but there were worse things than missing a meal. "If you'll show me to his office."

"Yes, of course, sir. Thank you."

Magisters' offices were in a separate wing of the Curia, so Bull had to follow the man - a secretary? Some kind of emissary? - through the winding halls of the building. At one point they mounted a set of stairs that had cracked open at some point in the last five hundred years and clearly been cobbled back together with magic when they should have been rebuilt from scratch. Typical of Vints.

Finally, they reached a suite of offices with 'PAVUS' inscribed in the solid wooden door, and a displaying peacock - presumably the family crest - carved beneath. Before and after it along the hallway were similarly decorated doors. Supposedly, seats in the Magisterium were no longer based strictly on inheritance, but clearly somebody had forgotten to inform the interior decorator.

Entering the suite, they passed through an antechamber containing several small desks to another impressively carved wooden door. "Magister Pavus?" Bull's guide called, knocking on the door. "Mr… The Iron Bull is available to see you now, sir, if you're ready...?"

"Yes, of course," came the muffled reply from the other side, and the secretary or emissary or whatever he was opened the door for Bull to come inside.

Halward Pavus's office was expensively but tastefully decorated. A selection of wall tapestries in muted colours provided at least some relief from the cold black stone of the Curia, and the light from the narrow window was augmented with the warm glow of lamplight. In the centre of the room was a solid oak desk, which held a lyrium-powered typewriter, as well as a pen and ink writing set. Behind it sat Pavus: a brown skinned, middle-aged human in a conservatively cut navy blue suit. 

When Bull entered the room, he rose from his chair and came around the desk to offer him a firm handshake. "Good day, Mr... How should I address you? Mr. Bull?"

"The Iron Bull, at your service." One of the reasons he'd chosen the name for himself was the confusion it caused people trying to address him politely. "But you can call me Bull. Your man here said you asked to see me?"

"Yes." With a nod, Pavus returned to his chair. "Please, have a seat."

The chair on Bull's side of the desk looked sturdy enough, and the arms were wide enough that he could actually fit in it - either Pavus had been thinking ahead, or he just happened to favour large furniture. Bull sat down.

"Thank you for coming to meet with me on such short notice," said Pavus. "I was eager to meet with you before you left the country. Ambassador Montilyet has spoken highly of your work for her, and from what I've heard, your company is one of the best security firms operating out of Orlais."

Bull took in the praise with a neutral expression. "We're proud of our work. So, this is business?"

Pavus nodded, and cleared his throat. "I want to hire you as a bodyguard for my son, Dorian, from now until the end of the summer."

Even though he'd had no expectation of what Pavus wanted from him, Bull still managed to be surprised. "You're offering us a private contract?"

"I believe you have taken similar work in the past."

That was true: in the Chargers' early days, most of their contracts had been as bodyguards for wealthy Orlesians. As their reputation had grown, though, their pay had scaled up, and most private citizens just didn't have the means to hire them as bodyguards anymore. When they worked security, it was usually under the Ministry of Defense, or for a specific private event. If Pavus had that kind of money, he was a bigger deal than Bull had imagined. "The thing is - "

"I assure you, I am aware of your standard fees, and am willing to offer comparable rate to what you would receive in Orlais."

"I… see." 

From the dry smile appeared on Pavus's face, Bull hadn't quite been able to mask his surprise at that offer. "Ours is a wealthy nation, Mr. Bull."

"Apparently so," said Bull, although judging from what he'd seen, it was only a wealthy nation for people like Pavus. "I'm curious – why the Chargers? Why not a local outfit? I’ll be the first to admit we’re out of our element in Tevinter."

"That is exactly why I want to hire you." Pavus sighed. "You must know that politics here are a messy affair, and not all allegiances are displayed openly. It is common to hire household staff who appear to be trustworthy, only to discover that they are spies, or worse. As a stranger here, you have no political ties yet, and as far as I can determine, no pre-existing reason to betray an employer."

It was essentially the same line the Antivan Ministry of Foreign Affairs had given him when they'd hired him to escort Ambassador Montilyet. Sound reasoning, too, except that they'd both had the bad luck to pick a security company whose chief officer was secretly working for the Qun. 

"So. This son of yours - your heir?"

"Yes. Dorian is the only child of myself and Aquinea Thalrassian." Pavus said his wife's name with a hint of distaste, as if he were referencing a disliked but tolerated business acquaintance. "He was engaged in post-doctoral work at the University of Minrathous up until last year.”

"Have there been any threats?"

"Nothing credible, but I have reason to be concerned. My son has always attracted attention, but his behavior recently has crossed the line, and put him in the public eye in a way which could have serious consequences."

Without any knowledge of recent Vint gossip, Bull was left to speculate what behavior Pavus was referring to. The disapproval on his face indicated that it was probably a sexual thing, but Bull was still a little vague on what kind of sexual things would cause scandal in Minrathous.

"He will be spending the summer at a small villa east of Qarinus. There, he can concentrate on his magical research in a safe, quiet location, without becoming... distracted." Pavus had too much self-control to grimace, but his expression spoke of distaste. "I wish for you to stay with him at the villa, to keep him safe, and out of trouble."

Bull couldn't help frowning. "Sounds like what you need is a nanny, not a bodyguard. The Chargers are strictly a security outfit."

"Don't misunderstand me – I know who I’m hiring. As the future Magister Pavus, my son's life is constantly under threat, more now than ever. Dorian is a powerful mage, but he is still a young man, and like many young men, he is reckless. Too often, he just doesn’t understand the danger his actions put him in. Having a professional to protect him could mean the difference between life and death." Pavus's tone, which had grown serious, lightened again. "But I also hope that a presence at his side at all times may serve as a... reminder… to behave in a manner suited to his station. A reminder which he seems to need."

"All right," said Bull. "If you think that's worth hiring the Chargers, that's your call to make." There was no question that he'd have to take the job. His superiors would throw him a parade when he told them he had accidentally made it inside the household of an actual fucking Magister. "How many of us do you want?"

"Only you, Mr. Bull. I am afraid it will be hard enough to convince Dorian he needs a single bodyguard, let alone a regiment."

Bull’s skepticism crossed the line into wariness. As eager as he was to accept the contract, this was too good to be true. "So you, a Tevene Magister, are going to hire a Qunari bodyguard to go into seclusion with your heir for the next three months. Alone. You have to admit that's hard to believe."

"It's true that most of my countrymen are prejudiced against Qunari," replied Pavus, smoothly as if he were giving a speech on the floor of the Curia. "So am I. But you are not Qunari, Mr. Bull, and your history since your defection speaks for itself. I want the best man for the job, and Tal-Vashoth or no, you are the best man for the job. I won't let prejudice convince me otherwise."

Bull didn’t buy it. There had to be an ulterior motive for Pavus hiring him specifically. Maybe some next-level Tevinter politician gambit he had no context for? Even if it was a trap, though, he couldn’t turn him down. The benefit to the Qun of having an agent so close to the Magisterium was too great. If Pavus knew he was a spy, or found out later, he ran the risk of being interrogated and likely killed, but he had no recent information, so that wasn’t a problem. Leaving the Chargers left a bad taste in his mouth, but he could count on Krem to find them work while he was gone. However long that might be. The Qun came first.

"All right then, Magister Pavus." Bull extended his arm over the desk to offer a handshake. "I think we can make a deal." 

Pavus took it. "Very good."

The rest was a matter of routine. He quoted Pavus a rate in line with what he'd charge their wealthiest Orlesian clients, with hazard pay to be negotiated after the fact, depending on the frequency and nature of attacks against Dorian. After a brief discussion of terms, Pavus accepted, and telephoned his lawyer to have a contract ready by the end of the next day.

"I won't be able to meet you there: the Magisterium is in session tomorrow, and several new bills may come up for a vote."

"Well, then, I guess the next time I'll see you will be at the villa."

Pavus shook his head, with a vaguely melancholy smile. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Bull. My son and I are not on friendly terms at the moment, and it will be better for both of us if I keep my distance."

And with that, Bull was dismissed, having just doomed himself to spending another three months in Tevinter.

He told the Chargers at the cafe, over a lunch of mostly wine. They accepted the change of plans philosophically: of his employees, only Krem knew about his real line of work. All the rest knew was that Bull was a fair employer who sometimes made inexplicable decisions.

Nobody knew anything about Magister Pavus or his wayward son. Rocky, who'd taken to reading the local tabloids, did his best to fill Bull in on Tevinter's social mores, but it didn't help. Apparently, Vints considered everything from extramarital affairs to orgies to same-sex relations to be scandalous, although judging from the tabloids, this wasn't stopping anybody. Especially not the upper crust. As far as the Minrathous Sun was concerned, the Magisterium was a hotbed of sexual deviance threatening to tear apart the foundations of society. 

“I wish someone would have told me about this stuff while we were still working for Antiva,” he complained theatrically to no-one in particular. “I could really use an orgy about now.”

He saw the Chargers off, then wasted the rest of the afternoon wandering the city, a lone tourist with no agenda but shopping for souvenirs and visiting at a fountain or two. At sunset, he took a streetcar pulled by a golem to the outskirts of the former Alienage. His contact in in Minrathous was a viddathari escort with an apartment there. After a quick fuck, just to be on the safe side, he used her secured telephone line to call Gatt.

"When does he expect you there?"

"Two days. I still have to look over the contract. He's having his wife's driver escort me to the villa, and from there... I guess I'll meet the kid and take it as it comes."

"You made the right call, Bull. This is a big deal."

Bull chuckled, but he was uncomfortable with Gatt's tone. It reminded him that the man still saw him as a hero who rescued him from human traffickers, not a washed-up agent with nothing better than Southern gossip to provide the Ben-Hassrath. "Don't get too excited. Pavus and the son are on the outs, so this could turn out be a dead end."

"Don't be a wet blanket."

"I'm just saying, there are a lot of unknowns here. What happens, happens."

"Yeah, and what happens could give us a foothold in Tevinter like we haven’t had since the last war. I'll make sure our agents in Qarinus are watching for you."

"I don't know when I'll have a chance to make contact. Pavus wants me to keep his son close, and it sounds like he's basically under house arrest."

"Got it. Get in touch when you can, but trust your judgement. Maintaining cover is the priority for now."

"Understood."

"Good luck, Hissrad."

Bull was careful not to laugh at that. Luck was a distinctly bas concept, but for all of Gatt’s enthusiasm he was still a relatively recent convert, and old habits died hard. "Thanks, Gatt. Same to you."

He hung up. Then, with nothing to do but wait, he sat in the dark bedroom for a while in his underwear, listening to the sound of the shower through the apartment wall, trying to center himself. 

He should be pleased with the opportunity he’d been given to serve the Qun. Instead, he felt uneasy, and not just because the entire thing could turn out to be a trap. Of all the work he'd done since Seheron, this job had the most potential to be of real value to his superiors, and that sat oddly with him. He'd gotten so used to thinking of himself as a failure: a shattered tool, mended by expert hands, but now only of limited use. This job could change that.

He accepted his uneasiness and let it pass through his mind, as he had been taught. Worrying about the future was natural but pointless. He would play his part, and events would unfold as they were meant to. That was all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull arrives at the Pavus's summer villa, and meets Dorian Pavus.

Predictably, the Pavus's small villa turned out to be a huge estate, complete with tennis court, pleasure garden, and acres of meticulously trimmed green lawn. Bull didn't see a swimming pool yet, but he'd bet money he'd find one sooner or later. 

Halfway up the drive was an ornamental fountain with a stone statue of a woman holding a peacock, the bird's intricately sculpted tail fanned out to cover her naked body. Like the estate as a whole, it was beautiful and completely useless. 

Under the Qun, this would have been enough farmland to provide for a thriving community. The only practical feature he saw driving through the Pavus estate was a grove of olive trees - but even then, only enough to provide for the household. His Tamassran would have been furious. This one estate could have served as the basis of a lecture on the immorality of the Tevinter elite, who lived in luxury while their citizens starved. She could conclude the lesson by assigning the class a group project to plan the appropriate land usage when the war with Tevinter was finally won.

When they reached the house, it turned out to be unlike anything he'd seen in Minrathous. It stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean: a white stucco building with a flat roof and portico. Under the clear blue sky, it practically shone, and Bull couldn't help but find it pretty.

The driver let him off at the bottom of the path, and then he was on his own, standing at the front door with a small bag and his gun in a holster below his suit jacket.

Bull knocked on the door, which was opened by a maid: a white-skinned elven woman in simple but elegant dress, her dark hair pulled tightly back in a bun. Fortunately, it seemed like she'd been cautioned about him ahead of time, or maybe she just had a good poker face. Either way, her face remained unchanged at the sight of a Qunari at the door.

"Mr. Iron Bull?"

"That's me."

She nodded. "Mr. Pavus is around the back of the house. Follow me, please."

Yet again, Bull was uncomfortably reminded that since arriving in Tevinter, he hadn't yet met an elf who wasn't some kind of servant. Not that things were that much better in the south - only under the Qun were all the peoples of Thedas treated equally. At least in Orlais, though, elves had done well enough historically as merchants and entertainers to build up a small middle class, and there'd been a few elves elected to parliament last year. Tevinter had a long history of slavery, and elves here faced prejudice that made Bull furious when he thought about it too much.

"So, you have the advantage on me, miss," he said, as the maid led him through the house.

She stopped and turned to face him. "My name is Gracia."

"Nice to meet you, Gracia." If she hadn't given a surname, it was probably because she was an orphan - not unusual for elves in Tevinter. "How long have you worked for the Pavuses?"

"Fourteen years come spring." 

Meaning she'd been a household servant since she was about ten. Again, not unusual in Tevinter, where child labour laws were extremely new and seemingly never enforced.

"Anything I should know about young Mr. Pavus? It's my first day on the job, so I want to make a good impression."

Gracia kept walking, as if pretending she hadn't heard him. Clearly she wasn't a talker. Bull gave up on getting much out of her. They moved through the house in silence until they reached a set of doors leading back outside.

"This way," she said, and gestured down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs was a stone terrace where Bull found the expected swimming pool, with water so clear he could see the blue-and-white tiled mosaic at the bottom. He also found Dorian. 

He was lounging on a chair by the poolside, eyes closed, giving Bull a chance to size him up: a tall, fit human man, with warm-coloured brown skin and black hair. It was easy to see his relation to Halward, but where the father had been the conservative type, the son clearly was not. Dorian wore a tight fitting black bathing suit, cut low at the sides to emphasize his classically athletic body. His hair and moustache were fashionably styled, and he wore a line of kohl around his eyes, something Bull hadn’t seen before on a man in Tevinter. He was strikingly attractive, the kind of man Bull would notice across a crowded bar the minute he walked in.

Bull made sure he was at an appropriate distance, then cleared his throat. "Good morning, Mr. Pavus."

Dorian opened his eyes. When he saw Bull, he practically fell out of his chair. Bull wasn't surprised: given the state of their countries' relations, he'd probably only seen Qunari rarely, and certainly never inside his home. He was careful to keep a straight face as Dorian recovered.

It only took a moment. Meeting Bull's gaze with an icy stare, he rose to his feet. "So you're to be my minder."

Bull ignored that, and held out his hand. "The Iron Bull, at your service."

"At my father's service," said Dorian. His hands remained at his sides. "I have no desire for a bodyguard, and no need for one."

"Seems like Magister Pavus doesn't agree," responded Bull with a shrug. "He did tell you I was coming today, right?"

"He told me he'd hired someone. He didn't tell me you were..." Dorian looked him up and down. Then he flushed, as though he had just realized he was only wearing his bathing suit. "You know, I'd rather have this conversation with my clothes on, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Bull wouldn't have minded if he'd kept them off, either, but he kept that thought to himself. "I'll just wait here for you."

Dorian whirled around and disappeared up the stairs without another word.

Bull settled into one of the poolside chairs and admired the scenery. The ocean view really was stunning: it was a clear day, and he could see all the way out to sea, where two or three tiny ships made their way across his field of vision. When Bull got tired of straining to see in the bright sunlight, he entertained himself by watching a small green lizard sunbathing on the stone tiles, counting the minutes until it moved. The day was warm, but there was a pleasant breeze off the water, and if he cleared his mind he could imagine himself on vacation in some hotel on the coast of Orlais.

He figured Dorian would keep him waiting, and he was right - it was nearly an hour later when he came back, dressed in a cream-coloured sweater and white slacks. His makeup had been reapplied and his moustache restyled.

"So." He sat on the edge of the chair nearest Bull, stone-faced. "What does my father think I need protecting from, exactly?"

"Yourself, mostly." Bull noticed, with pleasure, that Dorian had to put some effort into not snorting out a laugh. "Maybe some assassins - from what I've seen so far, there are a lot of those in your country."

"I am an accomplished mage, and this villa is fortified with the best protections money can buy. I hardly think a single man with a gun is going to make me much safer. Why are you really here?"

Magister Pavus hadn't said anything about how much Dorian was supposed to know, so Bull figured it was up to his discretion, and he had no interest in keeping up a charade that he was only at the villa for security reasons. Besides, nothing made a better impression than well-placed honesty. "I'll level with you: from what I heard, I'm here mostly because your father thinks having a bodyguard follow you around will keep you on the straight and narrow."

Dorian looked mad enough to spit. "As if I'm a lazy servant who needs observation to ensure his work is completed. I assure you, the last thing I want right now is to attract attention to myself. I willingly agreed to stay here for the summer, and I promised him that I would behave appropriately. But far be it from him to trust me! Instead, he sends a Qunari... where on earth did he even find you?"

"Minrathous, actually. My security firm was on assignment with the Antivan ambassador, and we ran into some trouble. I guess Magister Pavus was impressed by how we handled ourselves." Bull thought of correcting the 'Qunari' bit, but there was little point. Nobody outside of the Qun cared about the distinction between Qunari and Tal-Vashoth.

"I'm surprised he would be so quick to trust you. You’re probably a Qunari spy."

Bull had been accused of this often enough since coming to Minrathous. Each of those accusations had been based on general prejudice rather than any specific suspicion, and this was clearly no different. "You don't think your father would have looked into my background?"

"I think that the Ben-Hassrath- " his pronunciation was just slightly off, in the way of most Vints - "have agents throughout Thedas, many in deep cover."

"Okay, let's say you're right, I'm a Qunari spy." Bull threw his hands up. "What am I going to to report? That you're in some kind of fight with your father? Seems like that's already common knowledge. Secrets about the Magesterium? We're the farthest I've been from the seat of power in the last month, so unless your father keeps a stash of top-secret documents at his summer villa in absentia, there's not much I can do here I couldn't have done in Minrathous."

It wouldn't have convinced Bull, but then, he was actually a spy. Dorian thought for a while, then seemed to buy it, at least for now. "I still don't trust you."

"I didn't say you had to trust me. But I'm going to be here whether you trust me or not, and there's no reason to resent me personally just because you didn't hire me yourself. I'm here to do a job, that's all."

"You're here to inform my father of my activities," replied Dorian, but he sounded more resigned than outraged. For all his bluster, he clearly recognized that he had no choice in the matter.

Bull sighed. "I don't plan on sending in a weekly report, if that's what you're worried about. But we are going to be spending a lot of time together. And Magister Pavus is the one paying me, so if he asks me what you've been doing, I'm not going to lie to him."

"Suppose I were able to slip away without your knowledge?"

"You can try," said Bull evenly. "I have some experience tracking mages from back in the day, though, so unless you have combat experience I don't know about, I wouldn't bother."

"You're a veteran, then?"

"I was on Seheron, yes." 

Mixed emotions crossed Dorian's face: surprise, horror, grudging respect. Bull was starting to realize that for a future politician, Pavus's heir was surprisingly bad at hiding his thoughts.

"Well." For a second Bull thought he was going to ask questions, but fortunately, he seemed to think better of it and move on. "It was a hypothetical. I told my father I would be a good boy this summer, and I intend to keep my word, although he clearly doesn't believe I am capable of doing so."

Bull gave him an intentionally ridiculous smile. "In that case, you have nothing to worry about! Feel free to ignore me, if you want. Just think of me as a part of the scenery."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "You don't exactly blend into the background."

"Maybe a show piece? Like a fancy tapesty, or an exotic vase. Something you can show off to your guests. Bet most of them have never seen a real live Qunari before."

"Actually," said Dorian cooly, "You'll find that many of the older generation around Qarinus have fond memories of the Qunari attacking the city during the last war." His tone lightened again the next moment. "But I doubt we'll be seeing many visitors. As for myself, it's true that you're the first Qunari I've ever met - or rather, the first Tal-Vashoth, I suppose."

"What do you think? Do I live up to your expectations?" Bull was aware that he was dangerously close to open flirting, but it shouldn't do any harm. His objective now was to win Dorian's trust, and establishing a rapport was part of that. Besides, it was fun.

"You're very... tall."

Bull smirked. "Don't forget 'broad'. You should see *me* in a swimsuit."

"Enough!" Dorian sounded exasperated, but not truly upset. "I'm going back to my study. Gracia will show you around the house, I'll be down for dinner at eight, until which time I expect to be left undisturbed."

"Sure thing, Mr. Pavus."

He could almost see Dorian's nose wrinkle with distaste. "Oh, I think not. If you must call me anything, Dorian will do."

"Okay then, Dorian. You can call me 'Bull,' or if you really want to make me happy, 'The Iron Bull.' The article's important."

"The Iron Bull. Fasta vass." With a theatrical sigh, Dorian stood up and went back up the stairs. His going finally disturbed the green lizard, which skittered across the ground and over the balustrade and disappeared down the cliffside.

In all honesty, that had gone much better than Bull had expected. Dorian was prickly - who wouldn't be? - but he'd been civil about it, and whatever his opinions on the situation, it was in his best interests to go along with his father's wishes. Looking at him through Hissrad's eyes, he was uniquely easy to read for a Vint of his social status. Even if he was smart enough to keep quiet about important matters, Bull might be able to learn something just from studying his reactions.

He had a feeling that if he had to spend the summer looking after a Magister's heir, he could do a lot worse than Dorian Pavus. At least the man was easy on the eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pavus villa is a fictional creation based on extensive google images searches of the Amalfi Coast. I also did a lot of google research on historical men's swimwear (https://www.queerty.com/7-swimsuit-dos-and-donts-20130417/bathing-costume, Dorian is wearing something like the second guy from the left) because historical accuracy is crucial when writing AU Dragon Age fanfiction. Lastly, thank you so much for all the positive feedback on chapter one! Subsequent chapters will be a little slow, but I'm excited to finally show the world the results of like two years of daydreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fanfic on and off for over two years, and I've put off posting any of it because I worried that I'd be setting myself up for failure if I never finished it. Now I feel like if I ever want to actually finish it, I need it out in public, to put some pressure on myself. So here is my super self-indulgent Adoribull 1920s AU!


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